


Felt Good On My Lips

by dizzzylu



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzzylu/pseuds/dizzzylu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff had texted him about the airport delays, of course, but apparently there had still been a glimmer of hope left in Jensen that maybe something would work in their favor and Jeff would make it home before him. Of course, after months apart, they wouldn't be that lucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Felt Good On My Lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stageira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stageira/gifts).



> For stageira on the occasion of her birthday. Er, two days after the fact. Sorry I'm late, bb :( You asked for domesticity or fluff. I...am not entirely sure this fits either of those bills?
> 
> Big thank you to for giving this a quick once-over. Any and all mistakes are mine!

It's quarter past one when Jensen stumbles into the house, waving good-bye to Jared as Clif pulls out of the driveway. Everything is dark, quiet. Still. Jeff had texted him about the airport delays, of course, but apparently there had still been a glimmer of hope left in Jensen that maybe something would work in their favor and Jeff would make it home before him. Of course, after months apart, they wouldn't be that lucky. 

Not bothering with the lights, Jensen manages to stumble his way up the stairs to the bathroom, peeling out of his clothes along the way, leaving them wherever they happen to fall, like a breadcrumb trail. Not that it matters.

Jensen's definitely not pouting. Much.

The shower feels good, hot water beating down on stiff muscles and chilled skin. Even after eight years, Jensen still hasn't gotten used to the cool, damp Vancouver autumns. Luckily, he has Jeff the human furnace to help with that. Or, barring Jeff, a wide array of hoodies Jeff owns that Jensen has no qualms about borrowing from.

Between the heat and the soothing lull of the water, Jensen's eyelids droop, his blinks growing longer and longer. He's yawning a lot, too, wide-mouthed and loud, the sound of it echoing off the shower walls. He figures he has about five minutes before he falls asleep standing up or possibly passes out and drowns to death, so he reaches for the soap and starts to work.

That's when he feels the cool breeze on his back.

Because he's three-quarters of the way to sleep, he trips over his own ankle trying to spin around, and almost ends up face-planting anyway, but it's Jeff that caused the breeze and he's there to catch Jensen before he falls. 

He gives Jensen a wide, lazy grin, and cups his cheek to kiss him soft and slow; languid flicks of his tongue that do more to perk Jensen up than their citrus-scented soap ever has.

"Hey," Jensen drawls, once Jeff pulls away, dragging the word out a handful of syllables too long. His hand finds Jeff's hip and urges him closer, pulls himself up to standing so he can hook an arm around Jeff's neck and kiss him for real, their slick bodies sliding together effortlessly. 

Jeff's hands drift down Jensen's back, following the line of his spine, the swell of his ass, to grab and pull. He hitches Jensen's hips closer, grinding their pelvises together, and Jensen gasps into Jeff's mouth as their cocks brush, bright lights sparking behind his eyes. 

They make a slow turn toward the water, Jensen still shamelessly rubbing himself against Jeff anywhere he can; their faces, their chests, their dicks slip-sliding together under stinging hot water. Jeff takes his chin between thumb and forefinger and angles Jensen's face up, leans in to deepen his kisses, mouth wide and wet and open, as he backs Jensen into the wall. 

The cool tile is a stark contrast to Jeff's heat and Jensen's hips roll on instinct, trying to get away from it. Jeff chuckles in appreciation, nipping at Jensen's lips in between long, drugging kisses. Jensen feels it deep in his bones, like Jeff is pulling all the energy out of him one languid kiss at a time, and he lets go of Jeff's shoulder long enough to paw at the shower rack in search of the lube. Jeff gusts a laugh when it hits his chest, one hand rising to catch it while the other skims along Jensen's neck and into slicked down hair. Nails scratch at Jensen's scalp and he shivers and moans, rolls his hips again, searching for friction.

Jeff doesn't play around -- Jensen figures he's tired as hell, too -- slicking two fingers from the start and nudging Jensen's legs wide, making room for him. His first push in is gentle, though. Slow and slick and warm, and Jensen's toes try to curl into the shower floor for how good it feels. While his fingers work Jensen open, he nudges Jensen's head aside to get access to his neck, leaving behind what Jensen is sure will be dark, mouth-shaped bruises and a brilliant case of stubble burn. But Jensen doesn't care, fists his hands in sleek, wet hair and pulls Jeff's face closer, rubs into the stubble harder. 

Jeff doesn't wait long to add a third finger, drawing a long, wrecked moan from deep in Jensen's chest. His hands slide down Jeff's neck to his shoulders and use them for leverage to grind down. Jensen's footing is iffy, as is his grasp on Jeff's wet skin, but Jeff's solid and sure in front of him, one palm flat on the wall under Jensen's arm as he noses at Jensen's jaw, which gives Jensen a small sense of security. Foolish though that may be.

After half a dozen thrusts of Jeff's fingers, include one that was insanely accurate in its attempt to set Jensen's nerves on end, he's getting restless, his hips almost continuously in motion, cock sliding along Jeff's stomach. "C'mon," he urges, wrapping his leg around Jeff's. "'M ready, _fuck_." He sound petulant, even to his own ears, and he winces. Of course, the rush of the shower doesn't drown out his words. Jeff presses his knowing smile into the crook of Jensen's neck.

Jeff slicks his cock, then, forehead resting on Jensen's shoulder, and tucks a hand under Jensen's knee to pull it up. Once it's hooked over his arm, he leans in, palm flat against the wall, and uses his other hand to guide himself in. 

Jensen closes his eyes against the first push, concentrating hard on the burn, on the too-full feeling, of being pinned by Jeff. He lets out his breath in short, shivery bursts, biting his lip through a too-wide grin. His hands scrabble for purchase, trying for Jeff's hips and biceps before landing on his shoulders and digging his nails in. It's not in any way stable, but Jensen's not really worried about that anymore.

Jeff finds a rhythm pretty easily, and Jensen is just aware enough to match it, shoulders braced against the wall as his hips move to meet Jeff, cock sliding through the water running down Jeff's stomach. There is almost no friction there, nothing near enough to get him off, but Jensen doesn't care, not right now. Giddy from exhaustion and Jeff getting home despite the odds, Jensen thinks he could do this all night, Jeff thrusting into him slow and steady, their chests pressed together. Their mouths are open, too, quiet gasps and broken words filling the scant space between them.

Need coils slowly, low in Jensen's gut, twisting tighter with each lazy thrust of Jeff's hips, and lack of sleep has him feeling strangely light. He can't stop smiling, the muscles in his face cramping with it, and he pulls Jeff closer to hide it. The move puts Jeff's mouth right under Jensen's ear. 

Jeff's voice is low, scratchy and abused, whispering Jensen's name, random words, slurred syllables. Belatedly, Jeff realizes where his mouth is and grabs Jensen's ass, pulling him closer, up, and latches on to the pulse in Jensen's neck. His beard is wet, but still scratchy, rasping against Jensen's own shadow of stubble. Jeff's tongue is slick, too; his teeth sharp. Jensen tilts his head to give Jeff more room. 

The harder Jeff nips at the skin, the more forceful his hips move, and Jensen finds himself skidding along the tile. Jeff pulls him down, as well, his fingers gripping tight to Jensen's hips. If he could, if they both were more awake, less exhausted, Jensen would hook his free leg over Jeff's waist and get himself some leverage to shove down on Jeff's dick. All he can do now is push up on the toes of the foot still brushing the shower floor and roll his hips. 

Jeff, luckily, gets the hint. Sturdy, warm fingers wrap around Jensen's cock forming a loose circle for him to fuck into. It's a tease and it isn't; it's not like Jensen is in any hurry to break the mood, to rush into that empty feeling of Jeff pulliing out, but the need to come simmers in his veins, pounds too loud in his ears. He hears himself saying Jeff's name over and over, almost like a whine, and his teeth catch on his lip, biting down hard enough to draw blood. In the end, he slots his fingers in between Jeff's and tightens the grip. The rhythm stays the same, though, and Jeff rumbles, "Yes, _yes_ ," in Jensen ear.

Jensen's orgasm rolls over him in a slow wave, punching the air from his lungs and turning his legs to jelly. Jeff stops him from falling at the last second, his hand like a vise on Jensen's hip. The warm, sticky mess on his belly washes away almost immediately, and Jensen frowns down at his stomach.

Once Jensen is more-or-less stable, Jeff hips start moving again, drawing a startled gasp from Jensen. He pushes in closer, all but pinning Jensen to the wall, and way his stomach rubs against Jensen's dick is just this side of too much. Jensen pulls Jeff closer anyway, ignoring the cramp that's trying to form in his thigh, with one arm hooked around Jeff's neck, and starts whispering utter filth into Jeff's ear.

Jeff chuckles through it, breathless and gasping, until Jensen talks about how good it'll feel to have Jeff's come inside him again, and that's it; Jeff freezes for one crystalline moment, and then shoves in hard, causing Jensen to yelp and grin. This is something the shower can't erase right away and Jensen closes his eyes to enjoy it, clenching tight around Jeff's cock until the very last pulse.

Carefully, Jensen eases his leg down from Jeff's arm and pulls him close, smoothing his palms down Jeff's back while Jeff attempts to remember what breathing is. He can feel a smear of come on his thigh, his cheeks sticky with it too, and he guides Jeff's hand down to feel it. "I love that," Jensen murmurs, irrepressibly sappy after reunion sex.

Jeff shifts, easing the pressure of Jensen's chest, and the movement pulls his cock out of Jensen. Jensen sighs at the loss, then find himself leaning in to gentle, probing fingers, the pad of Jeff's thumb circling Jensen's rim.

"Tell me something i don't know," Jeff says, trailing wet kissing along Jensen's collar bone. He's smiling, though.

There really is no response to that, Jensen thinks sleepily, and reaches for the soap. The water isn't cold, but it's not hot, either. He figures they only have a handful of minutes before everything goes south. "You're the one who accosted a half-sleeping man in his _shower_ ," Jensen says eventually. The words have no bite, though, and Jensen knows the comeback is weak besides.

Hands on Jeff's shoulders, Jensen forces Jeff to turn around and washes his back with quick, efficient strokes. His thumb traces over a particularly red welt before Jeff spins again to wash his front.

Unabashed, Jeff replies, "You know how I feel about that ass." He pinches it, drawing a groan from Jensen.

"The ass that launched a thousand ships," Jensen says, soaping down his chest and groin. Jeff helps with his back, paying special attention to the cleft of his ass. 

"Damn right," says Jeff, smacking Jensen once. Jensen's gasp is involuntary, quiet, but Jeff catches it all the same and looks at Jensen with raised eyebrows.

"Too fucking tired," is all that Jensen says, neither confirming nor denying if he's into spanking, but Jeff knows. Jeff _always_ knows.

They escape the shower before the water turns frigid, and they end up playing a sleepy version of "Keep Jeff's Hands Away From Jensen's Ass" instead of actually drying off. Brushing their teeth means jockeying for position in front of the mirror, and Jensen only makes it into the bed before Jeff thanks to subterfuge and sleepy desperation.

"I'm glad you're home," Jensen says once he's settled into his side of the bed. Jeff is still moving around on his side, looking for the sweet spot, which means there's a small chance he'll miss Jensen's rare, exhaustion-fueled bout of sentimentality. Jensen listens to the sounds of sheets rustling, of Jeff's fist hitting the pillow, Jeff's contented sigh once he is comfortable. Dark eyes glitter back at him in the dim light, but Jeff doesn't say anything, so Jensen adds, "In case I didn't say it. Before." He shifts his shoulder in an approximation of a shrug.

Jeff's grin is soft, moonlight turning his teeth stark white. "Yeah," he breathes, his hand palming Jensen's jaw, warm and huge. "Me, too."


End file.
